Cheeseball Oliver Queen
by quisinart4
Summary: Felicity thinks Oliver can be cheesy, but she assures him she doesn't mind. Inspired by the 2x14 "You will always be my girl" line ONESHOT established Felicity/Oliver


**Title:** Cheeseball Oliver Queen

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Author's Note:** Hello! This oneshot is because of my feelings for the 2x14 "you will always be my girl" scene. Wasn't really a fan of it and was dreading it all episode. Now, I'm (sort of, mostly) over it, because I keep staring at Oliver's lovestruck face. But I just had to write something and get it out of my system anyway.

Comments would be most welcome, thank you!

* * *

They're working side by side on her couch, her with her laptop open and him staring at a stack of paperwork in deep concentration. She has to smile at the furrow between his eyebrows, the way he stares at the quarterly expense reports with as much concentration as the latest mission data, but with a tad more focus because this is something he has to put more effort in for it to all make sense. Self-defense moves he has down as a second nature, but making sense of the budget spending variance has taken more practice.

He catches her gaze and raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights the urge to smile. Why, he has no idea, but sometimes it seems when they lock eyes, the smile is on his face before he can even stop himself. "What?"

"Did Rosa schedule your appointment with Mr. Brown for next week? Because I saw him in the elevator and he said-"

"Yes, she did," Oliver nods. "Thursday at two."

"Good. And since it's the month end, you have to make sure she prints the month end stock report and not just the weekly one, if you click on the drop down menu-"

"Got it right here, Felicity." Oliver holds up the paper he's been staring at for the last half hour. "She had it ready for me yesterday on my way out."

"Oh." Felicity falls quiet, not sure what to say because there is really nothing more to add.

When Felicity finally switched back to the IT Department, she'd personally interviewed all candidates for Oliver's new executive assistant. Rosa was the best she'd found and she'd trained her for a whole week on the ins and outs of QC and exactly how Oliver liked things done (well, more like exactly on how she's been doing things for the most productive outcome which is what she's made Oliver get used to). So it's good to hear the woman is doing everything right down to the letter. The amount of e-mails she's received asking for clarification has quieted down significantly - from nearly a dozen the first week of Rosa's employment to just a couple a week now, if that.

"Felicity," Oliver says quietly, his voice soothing as if he's trying to reassure her, "she was trained by the best."

"Right, yeah, of course. That's good. I'm glad she knows what to do. Last thing I need is HR hounding me for picking my own replacement." Her eyes focusing away from Oliver, darting around the living room before she meets his gaze again. He has the slightest of smiles on his face, as if he knows what she's feeling though she'll never say it loud. At least not without oxycodone in her system again. "What?" she asks, hating that her feelings are so close to the surface. But she's never been as good as disguising them like he is.

"You're still my favorite EA," he tells her, his voice warm and soothing as he stares at her with gleaming eyes. Sometimes the affection is so glaringly obvious, she wonders how she didn't notice it all along. Or maybe she did but the denial was more overpowering.

Now that they're finally together, it's hard to ignore.

Much like his cheesiness.

"Oliver." She simply smiles and rolls her eyes, turning away from him with the shake of her head.

"Hey."

She turns back when she hears his voice, looking at him in amused exasperation, waiting for him to say what he has to.

"You'll always be my girl."

Felicity can't take it anymore, and that's when she laughs, giggling openly at his reassurance, setting aside her laptop to move closer to him on the couch. She slides onto his lap with ease, wriggling herself into place as she reaches for his neck, giving him the quickest of kisses before he can even react.

"You are _such_ a cheeseball."

He squints as he looks at her, confusion etching on his face as he drops his paperwork onto the coffee table to wrap an arm around her. His thumb automatically brushes at the bare skin of her shoulder just under the collar of her shirt, as if he needs the contact to ground them together.

"I'm a what?"

"Cheeseball. You, Oliver Queen, are so cheesy." Felicity leans in for another kiss, pressing closer into him, enjoying the way his lips follow her direction even if he's distracted by her words. "No wonder everyone makes fun of you."

This time he breaks the kiss to frown at her, genuinely surprised at the news. "Who makes fun of me?"

"Oh, you know, everyone. Digg, Sara, Roy... Team Arrow."

"Why do they-"

"Even people not on Team Arrow like Thea, and Diane in Accounting. Something about how the mighty fall."

Oliver stares at her in silence, trying not to be offended. Then, she makes it even worse by saying:

"Don't worry, it's cute."

He's heard the word "cute" in reference to him countless times, and still can hear it echoing in Verdant by the ladies anytime he crosses the dance floor. But this version of the word makes him scowl. He can't help but remember when he was eight years old and Kelly Pizer, the hot thirteen-year-old girl next door, had referred to him as the same thing when he'd come over to play video games with her younger brother, Kyle. That had been hard to hear considering he had a raging hormonal crush on her.

Clearly the word does not please him, and Felicity hurries to explain.

"Not in a bad way cute! A _good_ cute," she says quickly, angling her face away to look down at him. "Don't get mad."

"I'm not mad."

"You're about eighteen percent into your scowling angry face," she says seriously.

"I-" He can't help but let out a huff of amused laughter at her reading of his face, as if he's a thermometer scale that only she knows how to read, and only she knows how to calm down. "I didn't know they were gaining such amusement from our relationship, that's all." He shrugs and returns his gaze to her face, his eyes taking in her sloppy Sunday afternoon ponytail, the way her earlobes look naked without her usual earrings.

"Well, duh, that's what they're always talking about right before we enter a room." Felicity shrugs casually, and Oliver can't tell whether she's joking or not. In all probability, she may not be considering the number of times the team (_oh god,_ he's started to refer to them as the team now, all because of her ridiculous Team Arrow name) has stopped talking and muffled their laughter right when they join them.

"Don't worry," Felicity leans further into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she drops a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "I'll protect you."

His hands tighten around her waist, whether it's to hold her still from grinding into him or pull her in closer, he's not sure, but suddenly it seems very important that his hands slide up her t-shirt and to the soft skin at the edge of her sweatpants. It seems very important to hold her tighter when she shivers at the contact.

"You'll protect me, huh? By ruining their credit scores?" He murmurs the words against her lips, running a quick trail down to the hollow of her neck before returning to her mouth.

He jumps when she punches his shoulder, flinching back in surprise more than actual pain. That's when the laughter starts, his eyes twinkling as he pretends to move away from her. "Hey! I was just kidding."

"Yeah, but you're not funny," she reminds him with a glare before pulling him back in and holding him close. "And, no, what I meant was I could beat them up for you. Well, maybe not Roy, but I knocked Digg down the other day! Or maybe he let me," she adds with a slight frown as she stares up at her living room ceiling. "He was a little distracted because his phone rang. Anyway, I am more than just my intellect, you know."

He grins as his hands trail up her thighs, bringing her in closer so this time there's no denying the grinding together, the hitch of her breath, the way she nearly moans at the contact alone. "Oh, I know."

* * *

_the end ~_


End file.
